Flashback
by teaghost
Summary: Alfred slowly let his gaze drift from the Frenchman, to his brother, to Antonio and Lovino. All were staring at him with varying degrees of surprise. "I think someone close to Arthur pushed him in front of the train." Gilbert stared at him for a moment, hesitating before he began to speak, which was unusual for him. "How close to Arthur?" "One of us," Alfred said.
1. Chapter 1

**_Alfred slowly let his gaze drift from the Frenchman, to his brother, to Antonio and Lovino. All were staring at him with varying degrees of surprise. "I think someone close to Arthur pushed him in front of the train." Gilbert stared at him for a moment, hesitating before he began to speak, which was unusual for him. "How close to Arthur?" "One of us," Alfred said._**

**_Warning: Swearing. A lot of it. Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy_**

**_Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya._**

* * *

The halls of the high school were filled with an odd sort of quiet. Usually it was like any other school, noisy with the chatter of students. Groups of friends would crowd around, laughing away at something or other, all the while remaining blissfully unaware of the fact that they were blocking someone's locker or the entryway to a classroom. Today, students stared at each other with nothing to say. Others shuffled down the hall quickly, eager to get to class despite the fact that lessons didn't begin for another twenty minutes. There was a sort of awkward tension in the air, and yet, despite the silence outside, he found that the ringing in his head wouldn't go away.

Those who were brave enough to speak did so in hushed whispers. Their gazes flitted around the school, taking in face after anxious face as though they were all searching for the answer to some question they were too afraid to ask. No one smiled that morning. No one could find the strength to.

And that included everybody. Teachers, newcomers who could sense something was wrong, and Alfred F. Jones. The blond American was known for being cheerful and just seemed to radiate an aura of happiness. But he too was part of those with a blank expression plastered across their face. On any other day, this would be strange. Today, no one could blame him.

The ringing in his head persisted.

Classes began a short while later, leaving those still in the halls to wordlessly make their way to homeroom. Alfred found himself in his math class, seated beside Gilbert at the back of the room, where they'd claimed their spots on the first day. Gilbert was leaning on his hand, red eyes staring dazedly at the back of Matthew's head; Alfred's brother, who was sat in front of them. Alfred, on the other hand, couldn't take his eyes off the board, where Friday's date was still written in the teacher's messy, almost-too-small-to-read writing. Friday October 4, 2013.

Today was Monday October 7, 2013.

_October 7._

He kept repeating that over and over in his head.

The dreaded day wouldn't get out of his mind. He should've just stayed home. He should've spent the whole day sleeping. He should've pretended nothing happened. He should've… He should've…

There were so many things he should've done.

The teacher strolled in. She was a petite woman with curly brown hair and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. It was there now. She was probably the only person in the whole school who was smiling.

"Morning, guys!" she chirped. No responses came and her smile dropped. "We're all quiet today, huh? Tired 'cause it's a Monday?" she asked, then walked up to the board, picked up a piece of chalk and wrote in the blasted October 7.

Even she hesitated, the chalk lingering in its spot on the board just a second longer than it should have. Then her lips pressed into a thin line and she hurriedly scrawled in the day's date.

"Bring out your homework from Friday. We'll take it up after announcements," she said. No one complained.

The familiar ring of the P.A system seemed to shake everyone from their daze. They stood as the national anthem played, staring ahead. Alfred imagined that they seemed like zombies, blindly doing nothing but the bare minimum. His gaze travelled the room. Francis stood at the front with an odd expression on his face, the bags under his eyes becoming apparent as he briefly glanced back. Alfred wasn't sure whether the look was meant for Gilbert, Matthew, or himself, but it didn't seem to matter. They'd all seen it.

Lovino, the older brother of the well-known Feliciano Vargas, stood a few seats away. He was a senior and like Gilbert and Francis, was only in Alfred's class because he'd failed it the previous year. He may have looked unaffected, with his usual furrowed brows and frown, but Alfred knew him well enough to notice the dead look behind his eyes.

The anthem ended then, before Alfred could think any more, and they all took their seats. Elizabeta, another senior, began to recite the announcements, as was part of her job as the grade 12 student representative.

"Coach Alaric would like to remind everyone that boys' volleyball tryouts are today at lunch in the gym," Elizabeta murmured. The enthusiastic tone she always spoke with was missing, and if you listened closely, you could hear a slight tremor in her voice. "Girls' tryouts are tomorrow."

They heard some noise as the microphone was moved around. Elizabeta was quiet for a moment. "U-Um," she said, sounding nervous.

Alfred sat up straighter. He bit his lip and glanced at Gilbert from the corner of his eye. Instead of snickering at Elizabeta's stuttering, he met Alfred's look with one of his own. Elizabeta continued.

"The vigil for Arthur Kirkland will be beginning tonight at six. Students from all grades are welcome to attend. Those are all of our announcements for today. Have a marvellous Monday, AP High."

"Okay," the teacher said, clapping her hands together. "We have an assembly at nine, which means you have about fifty minutes to make the necessary corrections on your homework. That should be more than enough time. Please get started."

Alfred let out a sigh and pulled the worksheets out of his binder. He idly glanced up at the screen as the teacher put the answers up and began to fix the ones he had gotten wrong. He used to be one of the best when it came to math, but now he found himself making silly mistakes and being unable to concentrate.

"So," Gilbert said after a few minutes. "We're having an assembly."

"Today of all days," Alfred grumbled. He paused in his writing and his grip tightened on his pen. "Anti-bullying and all that shit, I bet. No doubt they'll mention him."

"I wonder if this'll ever stop," Gilbert said quietly. "It's so weird, the way everyone acts. Why's he so special? Something happens to you and all you become is an example for future idiots. The world is fucked."

"Don't be so sour, Gil," Matthew said, glancing at them over his shoulder. "I thought you and Arthur were friends?"

"Friends don't go and fucking die on each other without an explanation," Gilbert growled.

"You don't know what happened," Matthew tried to reason.

"Everyone knows!" Gilbert spat. "Not everything, but enough."

Matthew rolled his eyes, then frowned. "I was just saying. No need to get so defensive. You'd think you had something to do with it."

OoOoOoO

_ The fall leaves crunched under his feet as he made his way down the sidewalk. It was sometime past seven in the morning, and the sun was beginning to rise, throwing the sky into an array of fiery colour._

_ With his hands in the pockets of his plaid indigo pants, he slouched over slightly. He never had been a morning person, and the cooler weather wasn't helping that. His leather bomber jacket helped to fight off the cold, but a chill still managed to bite at his neck._

_ "Winter is gonna be hell this year," he muttered to himself, pulling a face at the mere thought of snow. "How that moose-loving pansy can stand it is beyond me."_

_ There were footsteps behind him and he turned, cringing at the breeze that blew at his neck. He managed to grin._

_ "Yo, Artie! This is new. Usually you're at school way before me."_

_ Arthur rolled his eyes, catching up to Alfred and then slowing his pace to a walk. "Alistair thought it'd be fun to turn off my alarm. I slept in."_

_ Alfred glanced at his watch. "You still managed to be on your way to school fifteen minutes before it starts," he grinned cheekily. "You're so late."_

_ "Shut it, git," Arthur grumbled, burying his face into his dark grey coat. "I have club budgets to manage. I'll have to do them at lunch now."_

_ "No!" Alfred whined, dragging the word out. "You're mine at lunch!"_

_ Arthur bumped shoulders with him, a small smile on his face as he glanced at him. "Tell that to the club leaders who need money for their activities."_

_ "Well, I can deal with them!" Alfred claimed._

_ "And you plan to do that how?"_

_ Alfred stilled for a moment, causing Arthur to glance back at him. Then he stuck his hands out in front of him and began slowly moving forward, shouting in a robotic voice, "Exterminate!"_

_ He knew Arthur was about the biggest Doctor Who fan out there, and it was because of this that he'd gotten into the show as well._

_ Arthur chuckled. "Are you sure you should be exterminating fellow students? I might have to give you detention for that."_

_ Alfred grinned, sidling back up to Arthur's side and leaning in to speak into his ear. "I wouldn't exactly object to detention with you~…" Arthur's face flushed slightly and Alfred took his hand in his, entwining their fingers together as they walked slowly the rest of the way to school._

_ Suddenly it didn't feel so cold anymore._

OoOoOoO

At 9:00AM sharp, they all made their way to the gym for the assembly. Rows of seats filled the large area, about half of them already holding students. Those just arriving found their friends and then made their way to any available seats. Alfred found himself between Gilbert and Feliciano, a sophomore.

The lights were shut off once all of the students were seated. All attention was drawn to what was being cast on the large screen at the front of the gym by a projector. As the few whispering students were hushed by a teacher, a police officer walked up to the front of the gym.

"Good morning, APH!" the officer exclaimed. "A few of you may recognise me from past years. I sure remember some of you, considering an event involving the science lab frogs that occurred two years ago," he grumbled, gaze drifting from Gilbert, to Francis, to Antonio.

"It wasn't even that big of a deal," Gilbert whispered as he slumped further into his seat.

"Anyway, for those of you who are new, I am Officer Køhler," the man said, brushing back his sandy blond hair. "We're going to be going over bullying, as per usual."

Officer Køhler changed the slide on the screen, bringing up a photo of a stop sign that said "Stop bullying!" on it. Alfred resisted the urge to groan. He wished they'd at least be more serious about this. If they had to suffer through assemblies like these then they may as well get an actual talking to. People needed to realise what their actions did, and they weren't going to do that by looking at silly photos.

"I'm going to get straight to the point," Officer Køhler said. "I hate assemblies like these as much as you do, I'm sure, and I know I wouldn't want to sit through this. Alright," he let out a sigh.

"Last year," Køhler continued. "Our regular anti-bullying assembly had a small addition to it. This year we're going to expand more on that. Arthur Kirkland…" he paused, letting the name sink in, and changed the slide to Arthur's Photo Day picture from his sophomore year. "He was a student of APH two years ago. He'd be in his senior year now. Arthur had done a lot in his short time at APH. He was on the honour roll, though I'm sure most of you better remember him as the student council president. Arthur was a smart kid. Happy, too. I would know; I knew the kid for quite a few years. He wasn't the best at showing it, but I think everyone could see that he was satisfied with life. Or maybe that's just what he seemed like to me," he sighed.

"Two years ago," Køhler said, voice rising. "Arthur Kirkland was found dead on the train tracks north from APH."

* * *

**_Hey guys I'm not dead, back with this fic and planning a new one. I won't go into details, but I'd appreciate any ideas and suggestions for pairings and I'll see what I can work in :D Anything is possible since it's barely started. This one on the other hand is finished so you can expect regular updates (since I suck at that kinda thing)_**

**_Please review! :3_**


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur Kirkland.

The name replayed in Alfred's head as the date had done earlier. Taunting him.

Arthur Kirkland.

That was all they thought of him. He was just Arthur Kirkland, some kid genius found dead by his own will. Arthur Kirkland, the grumpy student council president who would get on your tail for voicing the smallest complaint. Arthur Kirkland. God damned holier-than-thou Arthur Kirkland.

Alfred was sick of it. All of the "he was on the honour roll" this and "he was one of the brightest students out there" that. He wasn't just Arthur Kirkland.

So what if he had been awarded a silver plaque in front of the entire school, a reward for his piano composition, which had come second only to that of Roderich Edelstein? Why did that matter when the little pin Arthur had given him in seventh grade was made of gold? What about the fact that Arthur always made time for others, even when his schedule was beyond full? And how about whenever Arthur stepped into a crowded room, Alfred's eyes would be only on him? There was so much more to Arthur. So much more they were leaving out.

Arthur wasn't his academic achievements. He wasn't a stack of essays, each marked with an elegant A+. He wasn't paper and ink. He was blood and flesh and bone and stardust and so much more. Arthur was the reason Alfred found himself staring into space with a dumb grin. He was the sun after a storm, and the smell the rain left behind. He was the frost that came with the first snow, but not quite as cold. He was all of the little things that made it all worthwhile.

He wasn't Arthur Kirkland. Depending on who you asked, he was Artie, or Iggy, or Eyebrows, or about a thousand other nicknames, piled up over the years that he had made a point to prove he hated but never told you to stop with. Arthur Kirkland may have been the student that sat at the front of the class and corrected the teacher, but Artie was the boy who'd always stare at you when he thought you weren't looking, then turn away and blush. Iggy was the argumentative type, always looking for his next challenge, especially if it meant outsmarting Francis Bonnefoy. Eyebrows was the punk who'd cut class with one of his best friends, get convinced to dye his hair unnatural colours under some kind of influence, and then spend the next month regretting it. There was a huge difference, and Alfred found it unfair to label him as only one.

"It has been decided," Køhler continued. Alfred had almost forgotten that he was in an assembly. "That on the evening of October 7, two years ago, Arthur stepped in front of the train. There was no note left behind, no indication in the slightest as to why, so we have to assume things for ourselves."

"It's unknown whether Arthur was a victim of bullying. No one has admitted anything, and unless someone steps up, we'll never know. It's never too late to confess anything. What's done is done. You won't get in trouble."

Køhler looked out at the gym as though he actually expected someone to stand up and speak. Of course, he was only met with a few hundred pairs of eyes staring back. He sighed again, opened his mouth to speak, but then one of the teachers stood. Alfred recognised her as the little old lady who had been Arthur's science teacher. She'd been his math teacher, two years prior.

"Yes?" Køhler asked expectantly. The old woman glanced down.

"Well I've been informed that Arthur's living situations weren't exactly the best, and at one point he'd been prone to making friends with the wrong people," she said.

Ah yes, Arthur's rebellious phase. Alfred remembered it clearly, and he was sure everyone else who knew Arthur personally did too. Sixth to eighth grade would forever be scarred in their minds. He'd been quite the bratty middleschooler.

"That has nothing to do with it!" Alfred found himself blurting out before he could stop himself. As eyes turned to him, he figured he may as well elaborate. "Arthur's brothers may have been assholes, but all brothers are like that, yeah?" He saw Matthew nodding and frowned.

"But anyway, they'd never do anything to seriously hurt him! Neither would his old friends. Nothing like that could have driven him to," he paused, the words catching in his throat. "To kill himself," he finally said. The words felt foreign in his mouth and he felt wrong to acknowledge it, to accept that the horrible day had actually happened and wasn't just a nightmare.

"Then what do you think it was, if you know so much about this?" Køhler asked. Alfred pressed his mouth into a thin line. The question was innocent enough, but in Alfred's ears, it seemed suspicious. He shrugged and averted his gaze.

Køhler's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, before he continued with the assembly. Alfred refused to speak through the rest of it.

Soon, Køhler made everyone come up, row by row, and grab a piece of paper. "It's an activity," he had explained. "This would be easier if there were fewer of you, but we'll just have to make do. I want you all to write down what you would say to Arthur if he were here today. This is to practise being kinder to people, so you have an idea of what you might say to someone you know is hurting instead of being mean to them. Don't worry about getting personal, no one is going to read these. When you're finished, I want you to crumple up your paper and toss it on the ground."

The activity was hazardous. The floor of the gym was covered in tonnes of little pieces of paper. Alfred pulled his hand into a fist, crushing his paper, the only one written on in pen, as he'd pulled one from his pocket while Køhler had handed out pencils to the rest. He stared at all of the paper balls on the floor, all the messages to Arthur himself. He wanted to laugh, he realised as he relaxed his hold and unfolded the paper, letting his gaze drift over his words. None of these people meant what they had said. He was sure he stood in a sea of "you're so smart" and "we've never spoken but I'm sure you're nice." It's just what's expected of them because otherwise, they'd come across as heartless. They couldn't handle guilt and needed some sort of false sense of pride that they'd done something right. None of them actually cared about Arthur. Not like he did. They only acted like it.

As the bell rang for lunch, dismissing them from the assembly, Alfred let the paper slip from his fingers and float down to the ground. He didn't watch where it landed, and it ended up becoming lost under the stampede of students leaving the gym, stepping over it with their mud-stained shoes.

After the gym had emptied, Køhler and a few teachers remained, quietly chatting whilst cleaning the gym. A certain piece of paper remained, right by the door to the gym, torn, crumpled, and stained, and the four short and simple words on it, scrawled messily in blue pen, remained just barely readable.

"_Please don't ever go._"

OoOoOoO

_ "How's about it, dude?" Gilbert drawled merrily, slinging his arm around the other's shoulders. "The year flew by, huh? One second we're celebrating not being freshmen anymore, and now we'll be juniors in no time!"_

_ Arthur shrugged the albino's arm off, but he couldn't help but chuckle. "We've just started sophomore year, Gilbert. Summer break isn't for nine more months, much less the next school year."_

_ "Well yeah," Gilbert said. "But tenth grade will pass in the blink of an eye and we'll be juniors before you know it. You'll see."_

_ "Right," Arthur murmured, his gaze drifting to his swinging feet. They were sitting on the top row of the bleachers, chatting as they overlooked the empty football field. Arthur took his grades very seriously, but every once in a while, Gilbert managed to talk him into skipping class. "And then we'll graduate and toss our graduation caps into the air-"_

_ "-Head off to university or whatever-" Gilbert continued._

_ "-And officially stop being kids," Arthur finished wistfully. "Can you be nostalgic for something that hasn't happened?"_

_ "In a way, I guess," Gilbert said. "But keep talking like that and I'll start to think you're actually an English teacher in disguise."_

_ Arthur rolled his eyes. "Shut it. I just can't wait."_

_ Gilbert nudged Arthur with his elbow, smirking. "Unless you die by then."_

_ "I'm not you, Gilbert," Arthur muttered. "I don't act as though I have a death wish."_

_ "But you never know!" Gilbert said teasingly. "Anything could happen. Mafia attack, bullet in the head," he leant in to whisper in Arthur's ear. "Poisonous scone…"_

_ Arthur scowled and shoved him off the bench, and Gilbert burst out laughing even as he fell onto the row below._

_ "At this rate, it'll be you who's the death of me," Arthur said, but even he smiled._

OoOoOoO

The rest of the day went on normally enough. After lunch, everyone went to their third and fourth period classes, before the bell rang to signal the end of the day. It was 2:30 so Alfred still had some time before Arthur's vigil at six.

"I totally talked my brother into coming along," Gilbert said as he, Alfred, and Matthew made their way home. Alfred sighed, staring at the leaves beneath his feet. It went unnoticed by the others. "He didn't wanna since he didn't really know Eyebrows, but I guilted him into it."

"The more the merrier," Matthew muttered quietly, then said in a louder voice. "I just hope it won't be as disastrous as last year."

"I bet it will, since Feliciano will be there."

"Just don't start telling ghost stories again and everything should be fine," Alfred cut in.

Gilbert snickered. "You're only saying that 'cause you cried."

Alfred scowled, but Matthew stepped in before he could retort, sensing his twin's distress.

"I think it wasn't the ghost stories Gilbert, more so their content."

Gilbert shrugged. "They say if you're out there at midnight, you can still feel the brows. Watching. Waiting."

"Cut it out."

The albino continued to joke around as they walked. Matthew tried to shush him, sending quick glances Alfred's way every now and then. Alfred's mind was elsewhere though. What would Arthur think of Gilbert joking about his death in such a way?

"I'm off then," Gilbert eventually said, turning down another street. Matthew called goodbye to him, while Alfred may or may not have nodded in farewell.

"You're awfully quiet," Matthew pointed out. Alfred grinned sheepishly.

"Just thinkin', ya know?"

"That's never a good thing," Matthew noted.

Alfred gave him a light shove. "Hey, shut up. It's just…" he glanced down. "I can't believe it's already been two years. He'd be in the twelfth grade. Student council president still and grade twelve representative, I just know it. And then there was that dumb magic club of his…"

"Don't overthink this, Alfred," was all Matthew had to say in reply.

* * *

**_Hey guysss I would really appreciate it if you checked out my other USUK fic His Favourite Mistake :D It's not sad like this onee_**

**_Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review~_**


	3. Chapter 3

Time usually feels like it's passing all too slowly. You're sitting in class and the hands on the clock seem to slow down. You count forty minutes. That's twenty minutes times two. You just have to get through a mere ten minutes four times.

For Alfred, time was flying. It was as though one moment he found himself at home, forced to smile and tell his mother how school had been, and then in the blink of an eye it was 5:45PM and he was being ushered out the door with Matthew in tow.

"I'll be there later tonight!" their mother called as they begrudgingly made their way away from the house. "I've got some work to finish up, but if Mr. Vargas asks, tell him to expect me!"

Mr. Vargas was their school's principal, and since he was the grandfather of Lovino and Feliciano, they often saw him, back when they still visited the Italians' house. Matthew still spoke to Lovino occasionally, but Alfred really only knew him through Arthur, and he'd met Feliciano after hanging around his brother so much. After Arthur's... incident, Alfred and the twins had grown apart. But this was getting off topic. Their mother had become acquainted with Mr. Vargas through them and they got along, much to Alfred and Matthew's chagrin. Mr. Vargas was a friendly man, but he easily got overbearing. That, and it was weird to have your principal at your house.

The two brothers walked in silence, soon passing the school and then continuing to head north. Alfred realised that nothing had changed since he'd last been there, which was some time ago. The few shops dotting the area were still there, as was the piece of sidewalk he and his friends had written in when it was still wet. _Alfred, Arthur, Gilbert, Francis, Lovino – 2011_. Arthur and Francis' names were messier than the rest and written multiple times, though most were entirely unreadable. Alfred could remember how they kept crossing each other's names out.

They soon reached the train tracks. Arthur's photo hung on a pole by the side of the road, a few flowers and a stuffed animal strapped to it. In his memory, like they always did for people who died in such ways.

They stepped off the sidewalk, following the train tracks into a more forested part of town. They passed tall, thin trees and the occasional squirrel, but otherwise, the area seemed barren and devoid of life.

Finally, a small bonfire appeared, as well as tents, sleeping bags, and crowds upon crowds of people, each chatting with their own group of friends. Arthur's family was there, speaking with various staff members of the school, as well as other parents. Their hands were full of flowers. As Alfred and Matthew neared, Francis spotted them and waved them over.

It was 6:04PM.

OoOoOoO

_"Arthur!" he called, running to catch up with the blond who was quickly making his way out of the school gates. Arthur slowed but did not stop._

_ Francis finally reached his side, taking a moment to catch his breath. "Dieu, you are an impossible man to find! I searched the whole school during forth period!"_

_ Arthur gave him an odd look from the corner of his eye; one that seemed to say, "seriously?" and the corner of his lip quirked up in a sort of half-smile as he feigned thoughtfulness. "Hm... Have you perhaps checked my classroom?"_

_ Francis pouted. "You never go to American history."_

_ "Well I did today."_

_ The Frenchman waved him off, changing the topic. "Well anyway, it's Friday. What do you say to some drinks with the BFT and Lovi, Iggy?"_

_ "I have three things to say to that," Arthur said. "One, referring to yourselves by the name your third grade teacher gave you isn't cool. Two, 'Iggy' is the worst bastardisation of my name I have ever heard."_

_ "And three?" Francis questioned, ignoring the rest of what Arthur had said._

_ "Three, I can't."_

_ "Why ever not?" he whined._

_ Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm supposed to meet with Alfred."_

_ "Alfred has football practise for the next two and a half hours," Francis pointed out. "You could come with us until then."_

_ "I'm not letting my boyfriend see me piss drunk," Arthur scowled._

_ "I'm sure he'd find it very amusing," Francis snickered. "But if you're so against it, why not just ditch him?"_

_ "I can't do that..." the shorter blond murmured. Francis nudged him with his elbow._

_ "Sure you can! Just reschedule. Say something came up with your parents. Lord knows that's believable."_

_ Arthur looked as though he was about to give in before he shook his head. "No... I can't. Sorry, Frog. Maybe next time."_

_ Francis frowned. "You're turning down a good offer, Arthur. It's not often that Gilbert can get as much alcohol as he did today."_

_ Arthur shook his head again and sped up, moving away from Francis. "I know, it's just, there are some things that are more important than getting wasted."_

_ Francis stopped walking, staring after Arthur's retreating form as he headed home. He'd thought this might happen. Time to initiate plan B, he decided, and pulled a folded slip of paper from his pocket._

_ "Arthur, wait!" he called, running to catch up with the Brit yet again. Arthur glanced over his shoulder, a small frown on his face._

_ "If you change your mind," Francis said, putting the paper into Arthur's hand. He smiled. "The bridge in the forest. You know, the big one a small ways from the train tracks. We'll be there, or at any of the places on that paper."_

_ Arthur glanced down at the paper as Francis turned away. He walked a few steps before he felt a hand on his shoulder._

_ "Hold on, uh, Frog," Arthur said. Francis looked over at him. They held each other's gaze for a while before Arthur sighed. "Alright, fine. Count me in."_

OoOoOoO

"Well, the gang's all here," Francis said with a smile. "Gilbert's with Toni. They're scaring the crap out of the Vargas."

"Already?" Alfred frowned. "It isn't even dark yet."

"Guess they wanted an early start."

The three of them headed further into the site they were using for the vigil. Francis lead them to a place off to the side of the centre of the area. The train tracks were right beside them and Alfred swallowed nervously. This was right where Arthur had died.

"To think," Francis murmured quietly, more to himself than to anyone else. "Just two years ago, we were here and this place was so innocent."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, staring at Francis suspiciously. He was sure he hadn't been meant to hear that. Who was "we"? Arthur and Francis? Why would they have been together, the very day Arthur died? Alfred didn't want to consider it. He hated thinking of his friends this way, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Francis always seemed the most upset on this day, other than Alfred himself. But he had a reason to, he thought. He... He loved Arthur. Francis didn't have that. He didn't have an excuse.

Sure, Francis had known Arthur the longest. They were apparently better friends than they let on, but that didn't exactly explain his behaviour. He had those bags under his eyes that Alfred had noticed in math, evidently the result of staying up the previous night. He even looked sickly, as though this day had completely worn him out. What else would stress him out so much but guilt?

What did Francis know that he wasn't telling?

He had to find out. It seemed like it'd have to be his job after all. The police were finished with Arthur's case and no one else was doing anything. But he was determined to know the truth about Arthur's death.

"You think Arthur didn't actually kill himself?" Alfred suddenly said. Matthew looked at him weirdly, but responded nonetheless.

"Maybe. He didn't seem like the type. It could have been an accident."

Alfred frowned. "An accident, yeah. Or maybe someone did it to him on purpose."

"Are you implying what I think you are?" Francis asked slowly.

"And what do you think?" Alfred replied, crossing his arms.

"That you're saying someone pushed Arthur in front of the train."

"Well, it seems kind of obvious," Alfred said. "I mean, Mattie's right. Artie wouldn't have killed himself, and if you listened to that cop earlier today, you'd know that he thought so too. And he was supposed to meet me that day. Whoever killed him wouldn't have known that since it'd be stupid to kill someone you know is going to be looked for soon."

Francis glared at him, a challenging look in his eyes that Alfred gladly returned. "I bet you don't even remember what you had for dinner last night. How would you know what day you had planned to hang out with Arthur on two years ago?"

"Because," Alfred said. "He was my boyfriend and he disappeared so suddenly. I never even got to say goodbye."

"Um, alright, calm down," Matthew interrupted. "We're not here to argue."

Alfred rolled his eye, but said nothing.

"Eh guys, why so tense?" Gilbert drawled, walking up to them with Antonio and Lovino in tow. "Ya havin' a lil' cat fight?"

"We were just talking about who killed Arthur," Alfred replied easily. Gilbert stared at him.

"Huh?"

"What the fuck are you going on about?" Lovino asked, scowling. "That bastard threw himself in front of a train."

Alfred shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat, dude. I'm just saying that it's pretty obvious what actually happened."

Antonio frowned. "Should you be jumping to conclusions like that, Alfred? That's a pretty big statement you're making."

"Oh yeah," Alfred said. "Only 'cause it's true."

Francis narrowed his eyes. "What exactly do you propose happened then?"

Alfred slowly let his gaze drift from the Frenchman, to his brother, to Antonio and Lovino. All were staring at him with varying degrees of surprise. "I think someone close to Arthur pushed him in front of the train."

He looked to his brother, searching for someone to back him up. Matthew stayed quiet and stared at the ground. Alfred held back a sigh and glanced at Gilbert next.

Gilbert stared at him for a moment, hesitating before he began to speak, which was unusual for him. "How close to Arthur?"

"One of us," Alfred said.

* * *

**_I don't think I ever mentioned what a pain this was to write. I began this fic last October and all but one of the chapters have been written in class. Then about 2-3 weeks ago I finally decided to finish it.. I typed it all (it'd originally been on paper), added in so many details that had been missing before, and wrote the final chapter. And when I was a paragraph from finishing.. Literally a paragraph.. My computer decided to restart and update. I'd known that was going to happen, so I saved it, yet for some reason the update completely wiped the fic off my computer. It was gone. It said it didn't exist._**

**_I was absolutely fucking devastated. I did all I could to get it back but it was impossible. So I eventually started to rewrite all I could from memory, but it was horrible. It took about a week for me to finish. I'd wasted every second of my free time on this, and you know what happened after I finished? My computer updated again. And this time... The old fic came back._**

**_I was sure I was dreaming, but no, it really did come back. It was one of those moments where you're not sure whether to laugh or cry. This entire fic was insane. I wasted a lot more time on it than it's worth..._**

**_Anyway lol, hope you've enjoyed this chapter. Please review c:_**


	4. Chapter 4

"One of us?" Matthew finally spoke, gasping.

"Yes, one of us!" Alfred repeated surely. "And we're gonna find out who."

"Maybe you should just leave this alone," his brother said slowly.

Alfred angrily turned to him. "No way in hell! I'm not gonna let them keep saying that Arthur killed himself when he clearly didn't. This has gone on for long enough!"

He turned to Francis. "In fact, I think it's safe to say that-!"

Alfred gasped, then glanced over his shoulder to be met with striking green eyes. "Dude, what gives?" Alfred muttered to Alistair, who had crept up behind him and clamped a hand down on his shoulder.

"Heard ya sayin' some things about my little brother. Actually, with the fuss you're making, I'm surprised the whole place isn't staring at ya," he said, face eerily emotionless. "He wouldn't like to know that you still won't leave him be two years after his death. Let the guy rest in peace, ya know?"

Alfred frowned. "You should be more worried about this, Alistair."

"Oh, I was!" the red-head exclaimed. "Trust me lad, I couldn't sleep for days. But that was two years ago. You'll never be happy if you keep holdin' on."

"Whatever," Alfred said. "I'm not just gonna let him go like he meant nothing. I'm gonna get him some justice."

"Arthur never did like people meddling in his business for any longer than absolutely necessary," Alistair said, turning to return to the rest of his brothers and his parents who were a little ways off, talking with Mr. Vargas. "Stop trying to play the hero just this once, would ya?"

OoOoOoO

_"I can't believe him!" he shouted, slamming a bottle down on the ground. "Who does he think he is? Stupid Antonio... Bastard..."_

_ Arthur snickered, swaying from where he stood a few feet away. A bottle like the one that had been thrown was in his hand, as well as one of his shoes in the other._

_ "Now... Now that I think about it," Arthur said, words slurred. "Where did those buggers all scurry off to?"_

_ Lovino stared at him. "I-I think we uh, left them, actually."_

_ "No, they totally must've."_

_ "Um, maybe," Lovino relented. "But we are here now. Why are we here?"_

_ He looked around as Arthur started babbling something about God and the mysteries of the vast universe. There was less grass in this part of the field than where they had been before. It was sparse and not quite as green as it should've been, but what else could you expect from such a busy area?_

_ He stepped onto the train rail, swaying slightly but catching himself before he fell. "Well anyway," he said, ignoring Arthur's answer to his previous question. "At least we're away from those bastards. Good riddance."_

_ "Really?" Arthur asked, surprised. He walked up to Lovino, stepping onto the rail as well so that he could stand beside him. He stumbled and nearly fell backwards, dropping the shoe he'd been holding. "I thought you liked Antonio."_

_ They began to walk slowly along the rail, occasionally missing and drifting off to the side before stubbornly continuing onward in their trek. The sun was setting above them, and beneath the fiery sky the two teenagers moved as though they were heading through an opposing current._

_ Lovino sent Arthur a glare over his shoulder. "What the fuck? H-Hell no! Like I'd ever like that bastard." He jumped off the rail and stood, staring at Arthur, who stopped walking and stared back._

_ They'd managed to get a small ways away from where they had been before, but this area didn't look any different. It was still barren, the only hint of civilisation being the train tracks that continued to run by them._

_ "Coulda fooled me," Arthur slurred. Lovino scowled._

_ "Bastard, don't doubt me! Just 'cause you're a homo doesn't mean everyone is!"_

_ "Hey, shut up," Arthur muttered, eyebrows furrowing. "No need to get so offended."_

_ "I'm not offended!" Lovino shot back. "I'm just stating the facts. So get that into your head!"_

_ "I think you're in denial~" Arthur all but sang. Lovino glared at him as Arthur met his look evenly, the light catching his eyes in a way that made the green pop. He smirked as the ground began to shake beneath them._

OoOoOoO

He wouldn't give up.

They could try all they liked, but they wouldn't be able to change his mind.

Alfred knew that it was pretty much him against the world. Matthew wouldn't give up on the notion that Arthur's death was purely an accident, and everyone else thought that he had killed himself. That was it. End of argument. Alfred however, was not about to be moved. Arthur wasn't like that. That was something Alfred was sure of.

And it definitely hadn't been an accident. He refused to believe it was that simple.

Arthur; such a complex, unique person. He was different. He was... real, for lack of a better word. While everyone was obsessed with the latest fad, making themselves look good for others, or just having mindless "fun" and rotting their brains, Arthur was one of the most honest, true people Alfred could've imagined. It felt odd thinking that, seeing as he could be quite the huge liar when he wanted to be, but Alfred felt that the word 'honest' could apply to many different situations. Sure, Arthur wasn't all that honest in the obvious way. He lied, cheated others, and hid his feelings, but he was an open book to those who knew how to read him. He didn't love often, but when he did, he loved utterly and unconditionally. Alfred believed he was unbreakable and that was his downfall.

And someone like that should receive the justice he deserved.

Sure, Arthur hadn't been what you'd expect of the perfect person. He was far from it, in fact, but there was something about him. Something Alfred couldn't explain.

He smiled. "Let's play truth or dare."

Francis raised an eyebrow. "Why this all of a sudden...?"

Alfred shrugged. "Dunno. I think it would be fun. It could pass the time, at least."

He sat on the train rail they stood beside, hugging his legs to his chest and peering up over them at the others. Matthew gave him a long look before giving a resigned sigh and kneeling down on the ground in front of him. As though his going along with Alfred's game were some sort of blessing for the others to join in as well, Francis, Gilbert, Antonio, and Lovino all took a seat as well. Some less willingly than others.

"Here's somethin'," Alfred drawled. "How 'bout we mix up the rules a bit? I was thinking there be a sort of punishment for those who refuse to answer efficiently."

"What sort of punishment?" Lovino asked sceptically.

"Hm," Alfred hummed to himself, mockingly stroking his chin as though deep in thought. "Well it's gotta be something brutal. Not licking toilet seats or whatever. Something that'd scar you for eternity. Or at least 'til the end of high school, but there isn't much of a difference, I think."

Francis pretended to gag. "Licking toilet seats _would_ scar you for eternity!"

"Would not," Alfred muttered. "There are worse things."

"It would," Francis said. "Just ask Gilbert."

Everyone, as if on cue, turned to look at Gilbert who suddenly looked more pale than usual, and that was saying something. He glanced wistfully off into the distance, a faraway look in his eyes. "Third grade was a difficult time."

Alfred rolled his eyes but dropped the subject. "The punishment should be having your entire body waxed."

"Um, define entire body," Matthew said nervously.

"I really mean everything," Alfred said, a wicked grin growing on his face. "Arms, legs, head, eyebrows..." he trailed off for a moment. "Certain _other_ regions."

His grin only widened as the others made a face at the last part. Antonio spoke up, choosing to try to ignore the disturbing thought.

"Wait," he said instead. "If you try to wax someone's head, you'll just violently rip all of their hair out!"

"That's the idea, numbnuts."

Antonio stared at him with wide eyes, reading up a hand to caress his hair. Lovino gave him a weird look. "You're evil," Antonio whispered.

"Think of it as a little, helpful nudge in the right direction!" Alfred grinned. "Cooperate and everything will be cool!"

"You can't make us do shit by threatening us," Lovino grumbled.

"I'm not threatening you," Alfred said. "I'm guiding you."

"Great, maybe you should get a job in the government," Francis sneered.

"Just play the game," Alfred said in annoyance. "It's not that big of a deal."

"Yeah, I'm goin' first!" Gilbert declared.

"What?" Alfred said. "But I-"

"Mattie," Gilbert turned to the quietest blond. "Truth or dare?"

"Um, truth," Matthew said.

"Which one of us would you make out with?"

As soon as the words left Gilbert's mouth, Matthew's face erupted in about a million shades of red. Alfred, who had been rambling in the background the entire time, suddenly went silent.

"You can't ask him something like that!" he gasped.

"Me, right?" Gilbert continued to question.

"Please, I'm much better looking," Francis cut in.

"Are not."

"Um," Matthew said.

"Mattie, don't answer," Alfred demanded.

"Answer," Gilbert said.

"Don't."

"Do."

"I-I don't know, okay?" Matthew said quickly.

Gilbert pouted. "Fine. Your turn."

Matthew looked around their little lopsided circle. His gaze lingered on his brother for a moment longer than it did on the others, but in the end he turned to Francis. "Truth or dare?"

And it went on that way for a long time. The five seemed to be having a good time playing by themselves, mostly asking for truths, but the occasional dare would slip in and one of them would be forced to shout something embarrassing or make a fool of themselves in some other way. The circle shrunk, too, and Alfred was sure that the others had completely forgotten that he was even there.

"You guys are ignoring me," he pointed out at some point when it was Antonio's turn. They exchanged nervous glances.

"Um, no we're not?" Antonio said lamely.

"Bullshit," Alfred muttered. "I wanna go."

"Okay..." Antonio said. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

Francis whispered something to Antonio, who then turned to Alfred and asked, "What's your true intention behind this?"

"To get you to fess up," he answered easily, looking uncharacteristically angry.

"You mean interrogate us," Lovino growled.

"Call it what you may," Alfred waved him off. "Francis, truth or dare?"

He was silent for a moment. "Truth," he decided.

Alfred looked pleased by his response and leant forward, speaking quickly. "Where were you this night two years ago?"

"Drinking with friends," he said simply.

"Who and _where_?"

"It's not your turn anymore, so shut up," Gilbert cut in. Alfred glared at him.

Francis crossed his arms. "_Alfred_, truth or dare?"

"Truth," he bit out.

"Where were _you_?"

"Football, then Arthur's house," he said. "Only to discover that he'd never come home from school. Gilbert, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"I think it's safe to assume that you were with Francis that night. Was Arthur?"

Gilbert averted his eyes. "Maybe."

"I'll take that as a yes, but next time answer properly, unless you want to become something that resembles a naked mole rat."

Gilbert scowled. "Is it true you could be huge jealous, selfish asshole like he said you were?"

Something passed through Alfred's eyes. "Not on purpose. Is it true you guys were in this area?"

"Know what?" Gilbert said, challenging. "Yeah. We were."

"And what the fuck did you do to him!?" Alfred shouted, getting to his feet and clenching his fists. Gilbert followed.

"We didn't do shit!" Gilbert shouted back.

Matthew stumbled to his feet as well and grabbed his brother by the arm. "Alfred, please don't start a fight," he said in a hushed voice. "People are staring."

"I swear to God," Gilbert said, voice cracking. "We didn't.. do.. _anything_..."

Alfred looked around the clearing. What his brother said was true; a few pairs of eyes were on them, mostly from the parents. They averted their eyes as they realised they'd been noticed.

It was dark now. Alfred didn't know how many hours had passed, but the sky was black and the only light came from the fire and lanterns people had brought with them. It was quiet, except for their little group. Soon they'd stand in silence in Arthur's honour.

He turned back to his friends and was met with wide, sad eyes, and suddenly he realised that he hadn't been very fair with them at all. It wasn't right of him to assume that no one else could suffer as much as he, to think that his pain was above theirs. And so what if they weren't on their knees sobbing? If they had acted ignorant? After all, the easiest way to make sure others don't know you're hurting is to pretend you don't care.

And he wasn't exactly in the clear here either. He may have been going through his own internal turmoil all day, but he'd acted selfish and uncaring toward his friends.

Had he always been like that? Had Arthur always seen him as a jealous, selfish asshole like Gilbert said?

He hoped not.

"I'm sorry," Alfred said quietly. He bit his lip and turned his gaze to the ground, but that only caused his vision to go blurry as the tears he hadn't noticed prickling at his eyes threatened to fall. He didn't want to cry. "I'm really sorry."

* * *

**_I was supposed to update this yesterday I think but I totally forgot and then someone followed it just now and I was like crap I have a fanfic. So thank you MegaTarts you're awesome and I love you, rock on bro. *sunglasses emoji*_**

**_One more chapter after this one ;o Please review~_**


	5. Chapter 5

"You've nothing to apologise for," Francis said with a sigh. "You have a right to be upset. We did go out drinking with Arthur that night. Gilbert, Antonio, Lovino, and I. I actually talked him into coming along when he didn't really want to," he admitted.

Alfred didn't move. Matthew, who was still holding onto his arm, said what he knew his brother must've been thinking. "What happened?"

"I truly don't know," Francis said. "And that's a promise. We were too drunk to think straight, got separated, and something went wrong."

"He was with me," Lovino spoke up shakingly. Alfred and Matthew looked at him in surprise, while the others seemed knowing.

"You..."

"I didn't push him," he blurted. "Well, maybe I did, but I didn't know the train was so close! I tried to grab him," he explained franticly, sounding hysterical. Alfred could see that he was about to cry too. "But we were drunk and... it was too late..."

"It was just a silly little argument," Lovino continued. "Not even that. I didn't mean for him to die. I would've _never_ wanted that..."

"You have to understand Alfred, I didn't mean it. Please."

He felt like he was drowning. His chest was tight and burning and he didn't know what to feel anymore. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to be upset. But his mind just came to a blank and he felt nothing instead. And for some reason the numbness was worse than anything else he could think of.

Lovino was still rambling in the background, but it was just white noise in Alfred's ears. The others had moved to console him, except for Matthew. His brother may have asked him if he was okay, but he wasn't sure. He wasn't listening anymore. He wouldn't have known the answer anyway.

"Lovino, stop," Alfred said. The words were lighter than air and he hadn't even felt them leave his lips, yet somehow everyone had heard. His blue eyes locked with the Italian's hazel ones. "You don't have to explain yourself. I get that you didn't mean for it to happen." The words felt strange coming out of his mouth after he'd spent the past two years thinking the opposite. Even he wasn't sure whether he believed them. "I... feel better knowing the truth about what happened."

And he did. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with this information now that he had it. In fact, he'd probably just end up keeping it between him and his friends.

The yearly anti-bullying assemblies would go on, and eventually they would get someone new to engross themselves with. The vigils would continue, until one year it would get called off because of the rain, and after that for some reason no one would question, they'd stop altogether. The amount of flowers left near the scene of his accident would lessen, as would those by his grave. There would be less visitors, and more wilted carnations bought at the last minute. The name Arthur Kirkland would fade. He'd be just another somebody. Just another story.

And Alfred would sit through it all, knowing the truth while everyone else cried over a tragedy they didn't even know the beginning of.

And one day, a boy who looked remarkably like Arthur but with bluer eyes would ask him if he knew the details, because his family had kept him in the dark about it and he'd been too young to remember, and Alfred would smile sadly and reply something along the lines of, "Kid, you have no idea."

But in the meantime, he stood between Matthew and Lovino, because Mr. Vargas had called for the silent part of the vigil to begin. They'd gathered together by the site of Arthur's death, and he saw his mom among the group of adults. She smiled at him and he smiled back, took his brother's and Lovino's hands, and they stood together in silence. His heart hurt, but for the first time since the accident, he accepted that his wasn't the only one.

And he knew that there would be peace at last.

OoOoOoO

_"What is your problem?" Lovino growled. "Quit being such a dick!"_

_ "I'm not even doing anything," Arthur said, rolling his eyes. He crossed his arms and some beer from the open bottle he held spilt out onto his school uniform. If he noticed, he didn't show it. "I'm just joking. You always have to overreact about everything."_

_ "It's not joking if the only one laughing is you."_

_ "Well it's not my fault you can't loosen up! You always have to be complaining about something!"_

_ "If your definition of 'loosening up' is letting people walk all over me, then I'll pass, thanks," Lovino huffed._

_ "You know that's not what I'm saying, Lovino."_

_ "No, I don't know!" he stomped over to the Brit. "Plus you're being a huge hypocrite right now! You may be too drunk to realise it now, but I have seriously never met anyone who nags as much as you do."_

_ With that, he gripped the other boy's shoulders tight before, in a fit of anger, shoving him with all of his strength. He could see Arthur's eyes briefly widen in surprise as he stumbled back and lost his footing, since he'd been standing on the rail. He fell down between the tracks, and the bottle he held shattered beneath his hand._

_ Arthur gazed up at Lovino from the ground, cradling his hand, which now had a thin stream of blood on it, to his chest. He was a mess, with his missing shoe, ruffled hair, and stained school uniform. If only the school could've seen him. He would lose his spot as student council president, for sure._

_ "I'm sick of you!" the Italian shouted. "Go to hell!"_

_ Arthur remained silent for a moment, as though he didn't know what to say. "Twat," he finally settled for mumbling. A bright white light shone on him then, illuminating his features oddly and sending long shadows down his face. He squinted against the light, suddenly looking older than he was._

_ That was when Lovino noticed the thunderous quaking of the earth around them._

_ He didn't need to look to see what was coming. Life seemed to slow as his eyes widened in horror. This wasn't happening. It wasn't real, he kept repeating in his head. It couldn't have been._

_ "Arthur!" he screamed, leaping toward the blond with his arm outstretched. Arthur barely had the time to looked shocked before Lovino was forced to stumble back as the train rushed past him._

_ He felt hot blood splatter across his face, along with icy tears._

* * *

**_Aaaaand.. It's over ;o;_**

**_Thanks to those of you who read this and everyone who reviewed/followed/faved!_**


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